Wild Thing
by Creaky.Cauldron
Summary: When the details of Ted's night get splashed across the front page of the Daily Prophet, he and Victoire have some explaining to do.
1. The morning after

Teds head was spinning. He'd heard adults talk about it before - even heard Archibald Twigg reference it after sneaking to the Hogshead last Christmas - but he had only ever believed that it was a metaphor. Something adults said when they were being overly dramatic. But his head was actually fully, three-hundred and sixty degrees, spinning. In all directions.

James and Albus were being loud, excitedly recounting the details of their meeting with Viktor Krum the day before for the eightieth time. He opened his mouth to snap at them, but he decided that raising his head and opening his mouth was quickly a bad idea so instead he put his cheek back onto the kitchen table and groaned.

The family were recovering from the first crazy night celebrating the Quidditch World Cup. Ted and Victoire had snuck back to the tents at ten to six and - he counted- he had achieved a measly hour and a halfs sleep. The celebration had been wild, no one had cared about an underage wizard and witch in the crowd and Victoire had batted those beautiful eyes at the bar staff and the drinks had kept flowing. It wasn't that he hadn't drank before, Harry had shared a beer with him last summer, but that had been half a pint on a summers afternoon not the seemingly endless glasses of champagne and firewhisky and the….

Oh god, the firewhisky. What had started as a fun experiment and a "how bad can it be?" had tipped them both over the edge. He had barely managed to carry Victoire back to her parents tent before stumbling back to the Potter's minutes before Ginny had woken up. He had been so relieved that he'd gotten away with it that he hadn't stopped to consider what would happen after a heavy nights drinking. Ted had assumed he'd wake up with the family at eight and no one would be any wiser.

Ted had been wrong.

Harry's footsteps sounded unnecessarily heavy on the stone floor and a heavy hand slapped his back. He felt his stomach do a flip.

"Teddy, where'd you get to last night? We couldn't find you anywhere."

He contemplated a response, but all Ted could manage was a vague arm gesture in his godfathers direction.

Harry laughed. "Hope it was worth it. How's Victoire feeling this morning?"

Ted groaned again. Harry and Ginny were sort of cool, they seemed to allow him some freedom to screw up every now and again and although he never assumed he was off the hook Ted knew they'd never go as far to punish him for drinking. But Bill and Fleur took a completely different approach to parenting and Victoire was most likely getting an earful about her current state. And she had been much, much drunker than Teddy…

Despite himself, he couldn't help but smile at the memory. He had been pleasantly surprised to find out that although he was no seasoned drinker he was not a lightweight. Three beers in and he was feeling a little wobbly - three beers in and Victoire was full on sloshed. And she was an adorable drunk. Whereas before they had stolen shy kisses in locked rooms and cuddles when alone in the orchard, last night they had been confident and uncaring in their affections.

Teddy had kinda liked it. He had never been bold when it came to girls and Victoire had been no exception. Months dancing around each other, Ted obsessing over her and feeling confused, guilty, a little wrong (were they technically family if they weren't actually related?) had resolved itself two weeks before the end of term thanks to Victoire having a near mental breakdown in the library the night before her OWL charms exam. She'd made the first move (of course she had) and Ted was happy to follow her lead. But last night he'd found his courage and had used it to his advantage, pulling her against him, kissing her unashamedly and uninhibited, pressed against the the cold wall of the quidditch stadium...

There was a tapping at the tent window. He didn't have to look up to know it was an owl with the morning copy of the daily prophet.

Harry sat opposite him (loudly scraping his chair as he did so. Teddy wondered if he was doing it on purpose?). "Since when does Rita Skeeter get a front page spread?" He wondered aloud.

Ginny yelled from the kitchen "Since she whinged to the Prophet editors that she was getting no article time with the world cup." She entered the kitchen, Ted could see her blurry form clutching a cup of coffee. He squeezed his eyes shut as his stomach gave another lurch.

She approached and bent over Harry's shoulder. When Ted opened his eyes they were both leaning over the prophet, mouths wide open. "i'll never understand," Harry shook his head, "how people find our family so bloody interesting. All I did was took the boys to the bulgarian camp, how is that newsworthy?...and what's wrong with my glasses?"

Ginny wasn't listening, fury filled her face. "that...that…._bitch_! people can't honestly believe this rubbish! '_determined to promote as happy'._..what trash."

"Don't let it get to you, Ginny" Harry mumbled. "She's just bitter you got given a bigger column size over her. She's just taking cheap shots."

Ginny "hmm'd" and then stopped. "Ted?"

"Mrgh."

"Is there something you'd like to tell us?"

This was it, Ted suspected, the underage drinking lecture he'd been waiting for. He was too tired, too sick to deny it. He just wanted sleep.

Harry beat him to a response. "Oh, Ted. I really didn't expect to hear about your life from Rita Skeeter, of all people."

He was thoroughly confused. Ginny shot her husband a look and slid the paper across the table. Right there, at the bottom, an entire paragraph describing Teddy...behaving in an 'unbefitting way'..._lurking_ in dark corners...with _Victoire_…

Oh, crap.

Teddy opened his mouth to defend himself but the effort of sitting upright took all the energy out of him. The boys were being too loud, his head throbbed, Harry and Ginny were staring at him with expectation and all he could think was his Gran was going to absolutely murder him. His defense was dampened by a wave of nausea and he quickly retreated to the bathroom.

Over the sound of his own retching and pounding in his ears, he heard Harry yell to him from the kitchen "When you're done in there we're going to have a talk."


	2. The 'talk'

Victoire was fairly sure she was still drunk. She hadn't slept, only laid in bed after Teddy had walked her home riding a wave of elation and enjoying the buzz of alcohol, recounting the night before over and over.

Her parents had not been concerned when Ted had arrived at the family tent the night before. Victoire had even overheard her mother state that she was _happy_ Ted would be looking out for her in the busy crowd. She'd had a small stab of guilt at that one, her parents would not have been as relieved if they knew how she and Ted had advanced their relationship over the last five weeks. Af fifteen she was responsible enough that she could roam the VIP campsite with her oldest friend - she gave her parents good grades, rarely found herself wrapped in trouble. Victoire had earnt her freedom.

They'd found themselves in the VIP lounge, surrounded by celebrities and sporting heroes. Through Ginny Ted had been a regular at Quidditch events and recognised by many who stopped to talk to them. She perched next to Teddy, flattered by the attention and casualness of it all. It was when the seeker from the Holyhead Harpies offered her a glass of Champagne that she had looked to Ted for his opinion. She was still two years underage, but didn't want to show her youth in the midst of the wizarding elite. Ted had shrugged, giving her a 'if you're up for it' look and taking a glass himself.

That had been the start of a wild and crazy night.

This was the start of an awful morning.

Her mother was still screaming in french at her - she'd lost track a while back, her mother was using words not even she knew but didn't dare ask what the meaning was. Her father looked pale, he kept staring at the copy of the Daily Prophet and shaking his head. Bill would occasionally glance in her direction and immediately avert his eyes.

Victoire knew she was in deep trouble when her own father couldn't even look at her.

"You're _fifteen_, Victoire." he finally managed. "How did you even get alcohol? Did Ted buy it for you?"

She shook her head quickly. "No, daddy." (She was appealing to his soft side. She wasn't sure how this would play out.) "We were in the VIP lounge and everyone just kept _giving_ champagne to us."

Her mother paused at that. Victoire liked to think she was secretly proud of her daughters drink of choice. After all, if you were going to get sloshed, do it the french way.

Her father took over the lecture at that point, not realising he was repeating what his wife had just screamed in french. Words like 'irresponsible' and 'underage' were repeated time again. It was only when he'd stood from the table, pocketed his wand and said "I'm going to talk to Ted." that Victoire began to panic.

"You're what?"

"Ted. I'm going to talk to him." Bill was already leaving the tent, a murderous calm in his eyes.

Victoire stumbled after him. Her legs were not impressed at having to move so suddenly and far, and she barely managed to catch him up. Navigating the tent strings of the neighbouring tents she said "you're not going to hurt him are you?" She could see the Potters tent only four plots down.

"I just want to talk to him."

Three plots. She desperately tried to think of a way to get Ted out of this, tell her father it had all been her fault (which, she reflected, it mostly had been.) but drew a blank.

Two plots. She was exhausted, she wanted to sleep now that the excitement of the previous night had disappeared. She noticed her father was still clutching the copy of the Daily Prophet, now crumpled and dirty in his palm.

Bill Weasley tore open the Potter's tent flap and stepped inside. "Ted home?" he demanded.

He needn't have have asked. Ted was sat at the kitchen table getting what appeared to be a similar talk from his Godfather and Ginny. She tried to shoot him an apologetic look, but his eyes were locked with her fathers. His normal, electric blue hair had turned an ugly ill-looking gray. Ted had the sense to look worried.

Harry was rubbing his glasses on his shirt looking out of his depth. "Got the paper then Bill?" he asked.

Victoires father didn't respond, only advanced towards the kitchen table, smoothing out the paper as he did so. "'Mr and Mrs Bill Weasley," he read, "might like to know that their beautiful, blonde daughter Victoire seems to be attracted to any dark corner where Master Lupin happens to be lurking.' Making a habit of pulling young girls into dark corners Ted?"

Teddy didn't want to point out that Victoire was indeed only one year younger than him, and therefore not exactly susceptible to his advances simply because he was an older man. He further refrained from mentioning that Victoire had been the one to pull _him_ into dark corners, and he had objected to the act like a gentleman...until his lips had become otherwise occupied.

The only thing Ted could think to reply was "hrng…" _Well done,_ he congratulated himself.

Thankfully, Harry decided to intervene. He stood between Bill and his godson, hands wide, using his finest 'Auror in a hostage situation' techniques. "We were just discussing with Teddy the events of last night and how..." he glanced back at his wife for confirmation, "_inappropriate_ their behaviour was."

Ginny nodded. "Calm down Bill, it's just Rita Skeeter causing drama. It's all just slander and rumours."

"That," Bill replied, however somewhat more softly to his sister. "Is not the point. Your boy got my daughter drunk." When neither of the parents said anything, he added "she's _fifteen_!"

Ginny seemed unaffected by this. "We were getting pissed from dads homebrew scrumpy long before we graduated Hogwarts, Bill. Teddy was there to look after her."

The wave of relief Ted had felt at Ginny's defense of his behaviour was quickly harpooned when she reminded Bill Teddy had been 'looking after' his daughter. He was sure Bill was imagining the same thing he was.

"Teddy did look after me Daddy!" Victoire agreed. "When this dirty old man was trying to chat me up, Teddy was right there!"

It was true. When the aging drummer of the Rumpled Snorkacks had sidled up her, pressed a glass of firewhiskey into her hand and slung his arm around her shoulder and asked if she'd enjoyed the show that night, Ted had swiftly abandoned his discussion about Quidditch and pressed his lips into hers. Victoire had liked to think of it as Teddy claiming his territory. When she hadn't thrown him off in disgust the drummer had removed his hand and abandoned his quest.

It had been the first time Teddy had kissed her in public.

"You wouldn't have been in that situation if Teddy hadn't dragged you into a bar." Bill retorted.

He had a point, except that it hadn't been Ted that suggested the idea. He had wanted to attend the post-game review and discuss tactical strategies with the players, but Victoire had had enough quidditch talk for one day. She wanted to have fun and enjoy the company of her boyfriend. The Bent-Winged Snitches were playing a private gig in the VIP lounge so she had smiled and pressed her hips against him and Ted had been more than happy to comply.

"You're right," Ted spoke in what he hoped was a confident, grown up tone. "I'm sorry Bill, we should have discussed it with you first. It's entirely my fault."

Her father wasn't convinced. Ted had always had respect for Bill Weasley. He had always thought it had been mutual, but now he was reduced from 'loved member of the extended family' to 'boy dating my daughter'. He wasn't sure he enjoyed the shift in character.

"I shouldn't have to hear about my daughters romances on the front page of the paper," he moaned to no-one in particular.

"Amen to that." Harry agreed.

The pressure seemed to have been lifted somewhat. They were told, under no circumstances, that they were not to leave the tents alone and were absolutely not to drink without supervision. Both agreed, although Victoire begrudgingly. Ted felt there was no need for it, he was never drinking again.

Only after Bill had left, his daughter trailing behind him, did Harry sink into the chair opposite Ted. He looked uncomfortable, and gave Ginny a significant look. She left.

"Look," his godfather began, in that 'i'm trying to be your parent' tone used only for special occasions. "I don't mind you being sexually active-"

Ted spluttered.

"-but when it's plastered all over the damn Prophet-"

"No." Ted cut in. "No, no, no. There's no _sex_."

"Oh thank God" he heard Ginny mutter from the next room.

Harry appeared as relieved as she sounded, but persisted. "Please remember who it is you're fooling around with, Ted. Victoire's your oldest friend, you don't want to ruin a friendship that important-"

For the second time, Ted cut him off. "We're not just 'fooling around'." He raised his voice so Ginny could hear "and there's _no sex_. We're serious. Besides, you hypocrites, you started dating at the same age as us."

Harry didn't have a response for that. He simply shrugged lamely. "I'm just saying some girls are for the long-haul." He looked towards the room his wife had escaped to and smiled.

Ted knew that. It had never occurred to him that Victoire wasn't in it for life. Unease prickled in his stomach, and it wasn't just the remaining firewhiskey working its way through his system. He had a sudden need to talk to Victoire and reassure himself that it wasn't just fun they were having, that they were both serious and that he wasn't going to push away his best friend.

Everything else, the illness, the exhaustion was pushed aside. How in the hell was he going to get Victoire alone?


	3. Around the camp fire

Ted didn't get to see Victoire for the rest of the day. The morning was spent sulking on his bunk and sleeping away the night before in an attempt not to over think his encounter with Bill and his concerns over Victoire.

He was awoken by Lily crawling onto his bedspread just after noon. She settled into the crook of his arm and rested her head on the pillow. When he opened his eyes he saw her big blue ones staring curiously back at him, her blue rabbit tucked beneath her chin.

"Why are all the adults mad at you?"

He yawned, considering his options. If he told Lily and the boys, assuming Harry hadn't already, he'd never hear the end of it. If he kept it his relationship a secret there would be a few less people to question him if it all went wrong and he might have some hope of privacy with his girlfriend. There was no use in getting them all riled up for nothing.

"Because I did something stupid."

"What stupid thing?"

He sat up. Lily splayed out on the mattress like a starfish, attempting to reach each corner with each limb. She wasn't even close.

"I stayed out too late. And uncle Bill is angry because I kept Victoire out late too."

She hmm'd, accepting the answer. "Dad says to get up, you have a job to do."

This 'job' Harry had assigned was more pleasant than he had anticipated. The afternoon was spent assisting Ginny keeping on top of the coverage for the world cup. It was his godfather's attempt at a punishment, but Ted didn't mind it too much when it involved talking about quidditch strategies with some of the most prestigious players in the world. Ted mostly believed that Harry had veiled the task as a chore so that when Bill questioned him about it later he had a response. That, and Harry had always been terrible at disciplining his godson.

When he and Ginny returned to the tent that evening Harry had constructed a bonfire and was heating a cauldron of chilli over the flames. The children were roasting marshmallows over the flames. As they sat down to eat, Harry mentioned "Vic stopped round to see you."

His heart skipped a little beat. Despite himself, he asked "Was she mad?"

Harry stared at him for a long moment. "No, she wasn't mad. She said she'd pop back."

Throughout the meal he continued to glance at the tent four plots down, imagining her inside. He wondered if Bill and Fleur had calmed down enough for him to visit. Would he be allowed to see her? One thing was for sure, they weren't likely to get any alone time in the foreseeable future. Their days of shut doors and daytrips to Diagon Alley were over.

But Ted needed to see her, even if it was in the company of her family.

The night darkened, the fire burnt on, rising higher. One by one they were joined, George and his family, Charlie, Ron and Hermione with Rose and Hugo. Eventually, Dominique and Louis, Victoire's brother and sister crowded around the campfire, followed by Fleur and Bill, who despite their earlier interaction smiled and greeted Ted as normal.

No Victoire.

Ted was just beginning to wonder if he could sneak away to find her without bringing a whole world of trouble on top of him when he saw her approach. His heart did that annoying double flip it had taken to doing when he saw her and a stupid grin stretched across his face. The irrational thought at the back of his mind that said she'd been avoiding him vanished when she smiled in his direction, and he felt a physical tug towards her.

Had he been aware of anything except her, Ted would have noticed that every adult in the group had shifted their attention towards him, watching for his reaction at her approach. She closed the distance between them and sat on the camp chair next to him, a respectable distance away. The adults continued to stare and had become silent.

Victoire, unfazed, beamed at them each in turn. Casually she reached across and took Teddy's hand in hers, a defiant show of affection.

It had not been unusual for he and Victoire to be casual in their contact before. They had been play fighting for as long as Ted could remember and he was used to her small cuddles and shoves, having been the only other child close in age when they were growing up. But this felt different, and he felt his hand go slack in surprise as George snickered loudly at her action. He felt as though they'd been caught in an act much less innocent than simply holding hands.

She smiled at him, and said quietly. "Hey. I missed you today."

He couldn't keep the goofy grin off his face. "Me too. Did your dad calm down after you left?"

She flicked her hair away from her face with her free hand. "Not really. I had to clean the entire kitchen." She pulled a disgusted face. "By hand, the muggle way."

They could hear the VIP lounge in full swing at the end of the camp site, some popular band was screaming a song Teddy didn't recognise but Victoire was tapping her foot to. The camp was buzzing with excitement for the final match the following day. He wondered, not for the first time, if it would be worth asking their parents if they would be allowed to join in the celebration tonight. He doubted it.

Relenting to the situation he was in and simply enjoying her company, the world returned to normal for a few hours. It felt as though it were just another Weasley gathering, albeit a better attended one with Charlie there, and once the adults had gotten over the initial novelty of the new couple they were treated the same as they always had been.

At some point Lily had crawled into his lap and cuddled her blue rabbit against his chest. Whereas James and Albus were loud and excitable, Lily was sweet and gentle and often sought out Teddy for a break from the havoc of her brothers. He nudged Victoire and nodded towards the resting child. "Is she asleep?"

Victoire nodded, nudging the rabbit back under her cousins arm.

"I should take her to bed," he said, gently positioning her so he could stand.

Victoire's smile became wicked. "Okay, but then it's my turn."

Ted stopped and glanced around quickly. Luckily no one had appeared to hear her. He blinked several times, but couldn't think of anything to say in response. Victoire, it seemed, was going to be trouble.

"Uh-"

"I meant for a cuddle." She narrowed her eyes at him. "Get your head out of the gutter, Lupin."

Ted should his head slowly, as if to clear it, and then turned away.

Victoire watched them go with amusement. When they had ducked under the tent flap, she turned to her father. "Daddy, could Ted and I-"

"Absolutely not."

She pouted, but didn't press the issue. When Ted returned she made a point of pushing her chair closer to his and resting her head on his shoulder. She wished he would return the gesture and pull her to him, but he had become tense with the family observing them. He would occasionally glance at her parents and then guiltily lower his gaze.

The younger children drifted to bed one by one, leaving only Victoire and her siblings with the adults. This hadn't served to relax Ted any, and he became increasingly more tense as the children left. She was becoming frustrated with this.

She grabbed his hand and pulled him to his feet. Bill opened his mouth to comment, but she cut him off abruptly. "We're just going over there to talk."

Bill watched them go. "No lurking in dark corners please. I want to be able to see you both the whole time."

Teddy was pulled rather sharply towards the front of her parents tent and was dragged to the floor. The campfire was far enough away that they could speak in private. He groaned, "we are never living this down."

"We only have to suffer until september, and then we can do this-" She leaned forwards and pressed her lips against his "-anytime we like."

He immediately pulled away and glanced around, but they were unnoticed. Victoire sighed and shook her head. "Relax, no one cares."

But he couldn't relax. The bravery he had felt the night before was long gone and he couldn't help but miss the buzz of alcohol and the confidence it had given him. Not to mention the feel of Victoire's hands on his arms, his chest, in his hair… "I miss being close to you," he admitted.

Ted leaned suddenly forward and kissed her. It was a long kiss, a damn good one. Gone was the hormones and desperate need from the night before. He tried to tell her in that kiss everything he couldn't say aloud quite yet, the feelings he hadn't figured out himself and his apology for screwing it all up, for not realising they were being watched by the press. But most of all he tried to tell her that he wanted her, that he was prepared to show her family and his that they were serious.

Or at least, he would have had he not been acutely aware of several sets of eyes on them. Bill Weasley was rising from his seat. Victoire sighed, their night wasted. Her father beckoned her towards him.

Bill cleared his throat and she dutifully separated herself from him, standing as she did so. As she returned to the camp fire she tugged at a lock of hair, giving him a pointed look.

It took Ted several embarrassing seconds too long to realise his own hair had turned an alarming shade of pink.

**Thanks for reading everyone. Next chapter is the final of the World Cup so that'll be a lot of fun. **

**If you've got any ideas, prompts, or just want to tell me you enjoyed it please leave a review. **


	4. The Final

The air was warm and dry around the VIP campsite and it was far too hot, Harry reflected, to be surrounded by thousands of other people, but in less than an hour this was exactly what they would be doing when he and his family crowded into the quidditch stadium for the final match of the World Cup.

This trip had been a well-needed holiday for him. He had been working too hard and he was worried that with his eldest about to start Hogwarts and Albus not far behind he was missing out on crucial moments from his childrens lives. When Ginny had been offered the coverage of the World Cup, a once-in-a-career opportunity, he had suggested that he take four weeks off from work to look after the children and then join her with the family in Argentina for the final week.

Harry couldn't lie to himself, as much as he loved his children dearly, he was exhausted. He had snatched a rare moment whilst the children were being quiet to read the paper (no more updates on his family, he noted. Perhaps Rita Skeeter had had her fill and would leave them to enjoy the rest of the trip unbothered?) and enjoy a cup of tea. The boys were painting their faces ready for the match, and Lily was painting Ted's nails scarlet.

"To match our shirts," She had told him, as she dipped the brush into the pot of polish and smeared it across the tip of his index finger. "And you'd better change your hair to match, so you don't look silly."

Ted gave Harry a half amused, half pleading look, but he knew his godson would oblige his youngest, at least for a little while. He had never been able to refuse Lily.

He smiled to himself, watching them. He often credited Ted for Lily being as gentle as she was, having always been patient and understanding with her. James and Albus were vibrant and loud, but Lily never drew attention to herself and Harry was sure that Ted, as a single child (at least for a little while), had related to her most. He had seen in Lily what her brothers were too young to see, and both he and Ginny were grateful for that.

Harry glanced towards the previous days Prophet, still crumpled on the table next to todays copy. He had gone to throw it out but something had stopped him. Perhaps it was because of the explicit details Rita Skeeter had known about his godsons life that he hadn't. He had always had such a close bond with Teddy that he had been surprised to find out he was snogging (dating?) Victoire and apparently had been for some time. He'd have been surprised to know he was dating anyone, but then reminded himself, as Ted had, that he was sixteen and that was what sixteen year old boys did.

The thought gave Harry a queasy stomach. He hoped Ted was more responsible than he and his friends had been at sixteen. Especially Ron.

He'd come down hard on him for drinking, but the truth was he couldn't blame him for his behaviour - he and Ron had been just as bad when they had finally been given relief from the war, and when he looked around the campsite he saw multiple other teenagers drinking. Why should Ted be any different because his godfather was famous?

It was when Ted screwed up that he most missed Remus. Harry felt that in a perfect world he would have been the fun godfather instead of attempting to fill in the blanks Andromeda couldn't. Not that Andy hadn't been enough for Ted and had obviously done a wonderful job raising the boy, it was just that sometimes a young man needed his father.

Harry had tried, he really had. So why hadn't Ted confided in him about his relationship?

What else was Ted keeping from him?

"You can't wear that." James was saying.

Albus stamped his foot at his brother. "Yes, I can. I want to wear green, it's to support Flores."

James rolled his eyes (Harry noted he'd been doing that a lot recently.) and pulled a face that said 'i'm older so I know best'. "Flores is stupid. You should wear Red for Krum."

Albus stuck his tongue out at that but luckily Ted felt the need to intervene before they all had their day ruined by a tantrum. The heat had made them both irritable and quick to snap. "James, stop it. It's just a game, Albus can wear whatever colour he likes."

James narrowed his eyes. "What colour are you wearing Teddy?"

He glanced at his poorly painted nails and then scrunched up his nose. "Blue, of course."

"That's not for quidditch," James huffed and turned on his heel as Ron and his family emerged through the entrance. He took a long look at their clothes and then threw himself onto the couch, arms folded. "You're all rubbish."

"Wow," Harry said, observing his oldest friends outfit. "Old grudges really do die hard."

Hermione shook her head at her husband. Her family had all dressed in green in support of Brazil. She, however, had opted for a neutral black shirt and jeans. She had never cared for quidditch and had felt no need to dress up for a match she was hoping would end within the first twenty minutes.

"Viva Brazil!" Ron announced, a little too loudly, his grin too wide to really be authentic.

"Last week it was Viva America!" Harry reminded him. "You said Brazil were a substandard team and-"

"Opinions change."

"You never change," Hermione said lowly. "Just because Viktor is playing-"

Ron cut her off. It appeared they had had the same discussion multiple times. "That's nothing to do with it. Viktor who?"

Hermione looked at Harry in exasperation. "I told him: 'go have fun, take the kids, I'll be at the bar with a glass of wine and a book.'" She shook her head again and gestured to herself. "And yet, here I am."

"You're a good wife," Harry told her. He checked his watch. "Lads, Lily, we should go."

The walk to the stadium was short, the VIP camp site on its doorstep. It took only ten minutes and a security check before they were climbing the many steps to the height of the stadium, the best seats in the house and dead center looking onto the pitch, a box that been reserved under the name of 'Potter and additional' but should have been named Weasley for the sheer amount of them.

Ted sat purposefully in the seat in front of his godfather and his children, on the pretense of being able to turn around and talk to him better. He wasn't fooling anyone, the empty seat next to him had been reserved for one person only.

She arrived only minutes before the match began, out of breath and pink with the heat. Only Fleur remained immaculate, as she always was. Victoire smiled and slipped into the seat to his left, and he'd thought himself clever until Bill took the adjacent seat.

What Bill possibly expected them to get up to whilst in the company of their families Ted wasn't sure. It wasn't exactly on the cards to sneak off with twenty Weasley's on their case.

Harp music began to play and the Bulgarian mascots emerged onto the pitch. Fifteen veela women danced and shimmered across the grass and Ted began to feel his head go a little slack on his shoulders, his brain fuzzy. He had grown up around Fleur and her Veela charm, so he was somewhat used to the effects, but not when it was concentrated and in full force. These women were something else...they were...were….

There was a sharp jab under his ribs and the effect was broken. He blinked several times and turned to Victoire sharply, not quite sure what had just happened. His brain must still be fuzzy, he managed, because her skin seemed to glow, her hair white under the midday sun and her lips the perfect rose. Ted could think of nothing better than to kiss her, and felt himself begin to shift to lean in, an all encompassing desire he needed to fulfill...

"Don't think I didn't see you go all cock-eyed, Lupin," she teased, eyes narrowed.

The venom in her eyes broke the spell completely. He sat back, trying to get his bearings as below him the Veelas continued to dance. Looking around him men across the stadium were attempting to clear their heads.

"That was weird," He managed.

Victoire tsk'd. "You are so male."

Ted knew her too well to know she wasn't as annoyed as she was putting on. "How do they even do that?" He checked his hair, but luckily it was still as blue as he'd left it. "One minute they're dancing and the next I'm feeling like I need to kiss you…."

Victoire gave him a weird look and opened her mouth to speak but Bill interrupted her. "That's it, change places with me."

"Daddy, why?"

Bill Weasley pulled his daughter from her seat with one hand. "It's bad enough having to see you two making kissy faces at each other without having to hear about it as well."

His daughter pouted, but did not protest further. Ted kept his eyes dead straight on the match so as not to acknowledge him.

It didn't take long for him to forget Bill was there. As much as he wanted to spend the time with Victoire he couldn't ignore that quidditch history was being made before him, and he had the best seat in the house. An hour passed in minutes and only when the crowd were on their feet cheering for the snitch did Victoire manage to sneak from beside Bill to join the space on Teddy's right. He was pulled back into reality as the game was paused to assess an injury, and he took the opportunity to pull her close to him (around the waist, so that Bill couldn't see.)

Soon after, and the snitch had been seen again. The crowd was roaring and Teddy joined his the stadium in jumping to their feet. Krum and Silva were neck and neck, shooting upwards and then swiftly downwards. Ted was screaming, Ron was swearing, he was gripping the side of the box tightly.

"Grab it!" he screamed, "Faster, dammit! GRAB IT!" He flung his arm out in exasperation as Krum narrowly missed snatching the tiny golden ball,..

...And collided heavily with Victoires nose.

She sat down immediately, holding her bruised face. Ted's heart dropped, and Quidditch was ignored as he crouched down to meet her. "Oh my god! oh my god! are you okay? I'm so sorry…"

She waved him off and released her hands from her face. "I'm okay," she insisted. "You just caught me by surprise." Victoire rubbed her nose, Ted still looked concerned. "Don't look so worried."

He hugged her tightly, uncaring who was watching. Why was he so bloody clumsy? If he just looked what he was doing...one of these days he was going to hurt someone.

"Stop it." Victoire had poked him in the ribs again. "I know that look, stop beating yourself up."

"No, that's what I do to you, apparently."

She sighed and rolled her eyes.

The crowd roared again. Krum had caught the snitch and was completing a victory lap around the pitch. Teddy had missed it, but that was okay, he thought, as Victoire clapped and cheered next to him. Their family was too busy celebrating to notice them becoming closer, so Ted took the opportunity and leant towards her, softly kissing her. It was short lived, as these things tend to be around relatives, as someone (he presumed George) wolf-whistled and Bill cleared his throat loudly.

He stood up straight, sighing to himself. In forty-eight hours he had seen her twice, and neither times had been unaccompanied by her family. He missed closed doors and walks alone.

The walk back to the campsite was short but hectic. He carried Lily on his shoulders, who was chatting excitedly and Albus and James ran around him updating him on the very same game he had just witnessed. James had sourced a foam beaters bat and was hitting his brother and Teddy at varying intervals, re-enacting the plays he had seen.

Tomorrow they would return home and life would return to normal. They would sleep in their own beds, and Ted would go home to his Grandmother, who was enjoying a trip to the Caribbean with her friends in his absence. Victoire would no doubt be kept busy by her family who would find activities and chores for her to complete instead of visiting Ted. School would start in another month, but he couldn't wait that long, and with them being in separate houses and him starting his final year he had been hoping to enjoy the summer together before the chaos started.

That meant Teddy had one night to get her alone whilst their families were distracted. One night to talk to her about their future and reassure himself of his fears without someone peering in or checking they were a respectable distance apart.

He just had no idea how to get her alone.

**Thanks for reading! I think we're getting close to the end now. Please review, I really enjoy reading your feedback.**


	5. Going home

"...How is it that the last time I was at one of these things I was attacked by Death Eaters, and yet this World Cup has far surpassed it in drama?"

Harry smoothed the Prophet on the table, Rita Skeeter's World Cup coverage open on the last page. Ginny was shaking her head in anger, a scowl on her face. "That _bloody_ woman!"

Ted held his head in his hands. He always wondered if one day his name would be mentioned in the paper, but he had hoped it had been for something much, much cooler than just snogging his girlfriend at what he had thought was a private event. He guessed an event with thousands of other people present couldn't possibly be considered private, but it wasn't thousands who had seen him - just one nosey bitch who wouldn't leave his romantic life alone.

"What the actual hell?" Ted snapped at no-one in particular. "There were actual real celebrities at that thing, what fascination does she have with our family?"

Harry smiled at Ted's disbelief that they were considered celebrities. His godson had always seen Harry as normal -boring even, in a parental sort of way- and Harry liked it that way. The first time he had sat down to explain his role in the war to five-year-old Teddy the boy had looked at him sideways, skeptically, and proclaimed "they probably shouldn't have given you a chocolate frog card for that."

Harry liked it that way. Ted had never seen him as the chosen one, or special, just as Harry.

Ted's head was throbbing. At least this time, he thought, they hadn't been caught drinking or behaving inappropriately. Perhaps that would be in the next days Prophet, and Rita Skeeter was just slowly torturing him?

"She's evil!" Ginny hissed. Ted had never seen her this angry before, at least not off the Quidditch pitch. "It's one thing to gossip about adults, but to torment the kids…"

She was physically shaking with rage. She had always been protective of her children, and Ted felt lucky to be counted among them. He tried to imagine how his parents would react in the same situation, but his mind drew a blank. He suspected the only reason he was getting coverage in the press was because of his relationship to Harry. Would he even be in this situation if his parents were still alive?

"She never did care if there were children involved," Harry reminded her.

A thought occurred to Ted with a stab of fear. "Will Bill be mad? I keep getting Vic dragged into this. He's never going to let me see her again."

The adults glanced at each other, which wasn't helping his concern. Had they outright denied it, Ted wouldn't be so worried. Their silence spoke volumes.

"I'll talk to him," Ginny reassured him. "Bill will come around."

Ted felt suddenly worried that the night before was going to come back and haunt him. As it had been the last night in the camp the young children had been allowed to attend a bonfire and fireworks with minimal supervision. That is, the supervision had been Ted. Whilst the children had joined the crowd Ted had dragged Victoire to one side, laid out his coat and enjoyed their solitude, still within view of the kids.

But not so close that he had neglected the romance. He pulled a bottle of Champagne (charmed so the label read sparkling lemonade) and produced two mugs borrowed from the tent.

"Classy," she had observed, and they toasted the night.

The champagne had mostly gone to waste, both so worried about being seen and making the headlines again to enjoy it too much and the drink had been poured away after only two mugs each, the bottle buried under a pile of sticks in the sand.

But they had talked, honestly and without an audience, for the first time in days. Ted almost enjoyed being in view of the children because it had meant they were forced to connect for the first time in weeks through talking and not just satisfying their hormones. They had agreed, both enthusiastically, that they were not just fooling around. This was feelings and connection and…

Well, of course. But it was still too early for them both. He loved Victoire, but he needed time to figure out the nature of that love. And they had time: years of it, decades, he hoped. They would figure it out, he knew, and it would take some time to convince her family and his of the same.

As they laid back on his coat, her fingers in his hair, a little tipsy off the expensive champagne Ted hadn't hesitated to say "I'm going to marry you one day."

She laughed, but more from the shock of it. Victoire hadn't had an answer for that and Ted hadn't needed one. They watched the fireworks.

As far as he knew the sickles he had bribed the children with to keep quiet had been worth the expense. No one had mentioned their leaving the children unattended, and no one, as far as he knew, had seen them drinking.

"As if they actually printed our columns together," Ginny spat. "That's not sports journalism, that's-"

"Trash." Ted finished. "Gossip and speculation and _how has this woman not been punched in the face already?"_

Ginny smiled wickedly and cracked her knuckles. "Don't worry, Ted. I got her back."

"You did?"

"Not officially."

He didn't ask. Ginny could be very, very scary at times. It seemed to be a skill all Weasley women possessed, which didn't much reassure him.

Ted didn't get a chance to resolve the situation with Victoire what with the chaos that accompanies travelling with children and the whirlwind of portkey's that delivered them back to England. Even with Harry's influence and Ginny's role for the Prophet they still arrived exhausted and somewhat nauseated after three portkey's out of the stadium, across the continent and into the United Kingdom. Only after minutes of arriving into the Potter's living room Ted slung his bag into the fireplace with a handful of floo powder.

"See you tomorrow night for dinner?" Harry asked.

Ted grinned. "Couldn't stop me."

Harry shifted from one foot to the other. "Sure you can get home okay?"

They looked towards the fireplace, a journey Ted had taken alone multiple times a week since he was eleven. "Yeah, should be."

Harry nodded, but continued to look worried as his godson stepped into the fire and yelled "Tonks residence!"

The world swirled and pinched and seconds later Ted was tripping over the grate he should have learnt was there years ago but still continued to hit every time. His knees hit the floor and soot sprayed across the mat his Gran had placed there for that exact reason.

Coughing, he clambered to his feet, and noticed Andromeda waiting in her arm chair, arms folded, a stern look on her face.

"Hi Gran-!"

Andromeda cut him off with a flick of a finger. "Have a nice time did you?" She rose from the chair. "Let your hair down and try new things?"

Ted swallowed, his mouth suddenly dry. So Bill Weasley had not been his biggest problem after all. It was good to have perspective, he decided. Bill wasn't looking half as terrifying now.

From the coffee table Andromeda pulled two copies of the Daily Prophet and Ted didn't need to look to know what page they were turned to. "Am I going to be reading about you in the paper again tomorrow, Edward?"

Ted flinched at that. He seriously hoped his short lived fame was over and, provided no one had seen him and Victoire the night before, he could probably get away with keeping his head down at least until he turned seventeen, and therefore potentially less interesting to Rita Skeeter.

Then he would just been the adult wizard corrupting his under-age girlfriend. That thought wasn't comforting either.

Andromeda evidently hadn't been expecting a response and continued on a similar line of anger that Bill had just a few days before. "Irresponsible", "underage" and "embarrassing the family" were not new concepts to him. It was only when he she began to talk about "corrupting that poor young girl!" that Ted felt the need to intervene.

"We both know this was all Vic's idea, Gran." He rolled his eyes. "She's always been the terrible influence in this friendship."

Immediately, he realised what mistake he'd made. Andromeda's eyes narrowed and she got that 'Toujours Pur' look about her that only cropped up when he'd done something really, really bad. Lucky for Ted, the terrible influence herself chose that moment to emerge from the fireplace.

Victoire unfolded from the fire splendidly and dusted off her clothes as she did so. Andromeda softened immediately and smiled at the young girl, who grinned back at them both.

Ted tried to warn her with his eyes to run, that it was all a trap and f_or god's sake take him with her, _but Victoire was loved dearly by his grandmother who immediately embraced her and asked "how was Argentina?"

He pulled a face. Why wasn't his welcome home like that?

"Delightful," she answered.

"I apologize that my wild child of a grandson got you into trouble." Ted was shot a look again. He was beginning to feel guilty for something he hadn't initiated. "He becomes more and more like his mother every day."

Victoire shook her head modestly. She always was better at wriggling out of sticky situations than he was, and somehow he was the one always left to hold the metaphorical dung bomb. Or, in a few actual cases, the literal one. That had been her fault too.

"He was no trouble at all, Andromeda." She winked at Ted, which did nothing to help his frustration with the situation or his hormones. "Honestly, Rita Skeeter was over-exaggerating. Surely Teddy told you that?"

Teddy was going to say that he hadn't actually got much of a chance to tell her anything, but was cut off again by his grandmother, reinforcing his point. "So you and he aren't….involved?"

Lie, he begged silently. Lie and run away. _Take me with you. _

Victoire laughed and shrugged her shoulders. "I'm not sure what we are," she lied. _Success_. "We're still trying to figure it out ourselves." She smiled sweetly and Andromeda glanced between them.

Ted tried to emulate her casual shrug and appear as relaxed as she was, but guilt was written across his face and his Grandmother took no prisoners. "Hmm," she said. "You two stay downstairs and in this house-" She pointed a finger sternly- "The doors stay open, Edward."

He nodded. Andromeda eyed him as she left the room so they could talk. He could hear the radio playing in the kitchen and the sounds of pots being assembled, meaning Andromeda was only one room down from them.

Ted looked to his girlfriend, wanting to assess her mood since the last column had been released but he was pushed onto the sofa and Victoire was pressing herself against him, lips on his, hands anywhere but the appropriate distance his grandmother had implied, wasting no time at all.

Yes, Ted decided. Victoire was going to be trouble. But she was also going to be a lot of fun.

**So that's the end of this story. But I'm absolutely not done with Ted and Victoire, who were far too much fun. **

**Hopefully something different will be coming very, very soon. **


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